


Flowers

by luciblue



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-30
Updated: 2005-01-30
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciblue/pseuds/luciblue
Summary: Thoughts on after Brian foregoes buying the roses and loses Justin.





	Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian had lost Justin and had never been emptier in his life. He'd lost him to a romantic fiddler that in all honesty, he'd wish would fall off the roof and break his neck, along with his bow. 

Brian remembered standing in front of the flowers. He recalled picking them up, and proceeding to smell them. 

_Buy them_ said the voice inside of his head. But the voice hadn't been loud enough.

_hose are nice, would you like me to wrap them for you?_ Echoed through his mind

No, Of course not. That would have been **romantic.** The last time Brian Kinney did **romantic** , Justin got his head bashed in. 

As Brian walked away from the flower stand, he didn’t regret not buying the flowers. No apologies, no regrets—remember? 

But what Brian always failed to remember was that not everybody's a Jack or a Joan. Not everybody walked around without love in their hearts like the two cold-blooded bastards he called his parents. That sometimes pain was better than being empty. But he’s wasn’t thinking about that at the time. Fucking Justin's sweet ass into the mattress when he got home, for sure. That’s what was on his mind. Now he can't get it out of his head, and no amount of alcohol or sex will cure his current ailments. Walking home though, the thought that **maybe he should have bought the roses** lingered around in his head like thick marijuana smoke. It barely managed to slip into his conscious.

But still, Brian Kinney could never show the way he felt. In fact, he had stopped trying to show his affection for anybody when his father beat him viciously at the age of four, in a manner that any normal father would beat a person if he threatened someone he loved. While his mother watched and did nothing to top it all off. After that incident, Brian stopped trying to be the best affectionate son, **fuck** —the best affectionate anything that he could be. Finding out later in life that hate consumes too much of one’s energy, he soon learned the joys of sucking and fucking, and realized that he could drown his pain in sex. Why focus on emotion when you can focus on hot, raw, and even carnal physical sensations? And then there were the drugs and alcohol. Sex alone didn’t always cut it.

Then there was Deb. She was the only woman, fuck--person, who got Brian, who made Brian practically transparent when it came to his inner self. It was she who called him out when he was jealous of Mikey and Justin over the beginnings of Rage. And Brian hated acknowledging his feelings, especially when there wasn’t alcohol, a trick, or illegal substances around to slow his mind down to only the most primal instincts. None of that emotion shit. But the diner didn’t serve Jim Beam or bumps of whateverthefuck, just coffee. But truth be told, he was really fucking pissed when he walked in on the two of them sleeping together. Okay, jealous. What the FUCK? This was why he never did relationships, never did romantic. There was a reason for it, because when he got upset, he knew that he had lost control. Brian Kinney never loses control, not after he found out all he could control. He would never have the same emotions inflicted on him, the kind that Jack and Joan Kinney made him feel. But Mikey and Justin fucking made him apologize, which meant acknowledging feelings and Christ!, Mistakes. Errors. Flaws. Buying those flowers would have shown Justin Brian’s extreme vulnerability, and a weakness for sure. His weakness was Justin. He pushes the thought out of flowers his mind. No regrets about not purchasing the roses. He can't allow himself to feel that. 

Brian Kinney’s last stint with romanticism was never fully remembered by Justin, which was a good thing because Justin never remembered, and no weakness on Brian Kinney’s part was seen. And it was best to keep it that way. So he covers things up with lies, never speaks unless its necessary or to insult somebody. 

Staying highly caustic is Brian Kinney’s key to keeping people away. Because if you keep the people away, you never have to get close. Close means pain. 

And the pain that he recalled seeing Justin covered in blood was almost unbearable. It seared through his heart with a burning sensation, the kind of effect that heroin has on your veins. The pain had made him feel weak, and he had never felt weaker in his life. Not even all those times when he was bent over Jack’s lap with a belt slapping against his bare ass.   
So no matter how thick that smoke around his head was—as thick as all those times that he and Mikey used to smoke up in his 1962 Chevy Nova back in high school—he would always let gust of the north wind that dominated his heart blow it away. And he'd ignore it. Because it was Brian fucking Kinney who was in control, **not** his emotions. And because of this, Brian Kinney would always be lost, just as he had lost Justin.


End file.
